


The Second Time Around

by iTobi



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, I really need Jesus, Light BDSM, Someone send help and a bible, Stockings, Will go cry myself to sleep now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8505658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iTobi/pseuds/iTobi
Summary: He didn't expect to see you there. Not you. Not there. This wasn't the first time you had met, the first him that you had seen. This wasn't something he was used to doing. // I write really long things lol I'm sorry but kinda not sorry too.





	

You could see the confusion on his face, standing before him as he held his front door open. His beautiful golden hues were clouded in his doubt, his shock, his disbelief. Your hands clench tight to your cardigan sleeves pulling them to cover more of your slender fingers. The unspoken question that was written all over his cutely scrunched face was practically screaming at her.

What are you doing here?

The question though, which way would he ask that question.

Your heart was in your throat, you couldn’t swallow the saliva gathering in your mouth. Would he remember you? You couldn’t forget him.

“What are you doing here?” Your heart drops as he accentuates the last two words. A clearing of his throat, and he repeats. “What are you doing here?”

Your lips part, a sharp breath inhaled, before they close again and your eyes cast down to the floor.

“Y..ou-” Your voice broke, how embarrassing. “You remember me, I take it?” You gave a nervous giggle that almost bordered on hysterical, lifting one of your hands to grind the heel of your palm hard to the mouth that betrays you. You were terrified. You couldn’t look at him anymore, see that expression that was dusted with anger.

“You have to be kidding me.” He mutters to himself and your cheeks flush in the feeling of shame that rolls through you. “I can’t believe you got past the security.”

“You know that I’m fluent in Arabic too.” You murmur quietly, shaking your head slightly. “I feel stupid for coming.” You turn, quite ready to walk back down the path and away. You pause, however, when a hand reaches and pulls at your shoulder.

“No, no. Wait.” You paused, that idiotic slice of hope keeping you still. “I’m just.. surprised.”

“I.. I understand.” You felt that clump in your throat making your voice sound strained. He could probably feel you shivering in your anxiety. “It’s been a while. I should have.. told you.”

“Why didn’t you?” His voice sounded accusing and it cut.

“I didn’t think you’d remember me, to be honest. We only knew each other a short time and.. we didn’t really know each other, did we? We barely spoke.”

“… You didn’t think I’d remember you?” The tone of his words had you turn, looking up at you with those bright blue eyes.

“No.” You were honest, and it made him stare at you for a long moment.

This wasn’t the first time the two of you had met. For 6 months, the red-head child had attended the occasional class with you through the church organisation your parents had directed. You had classes in Arabic, English, Korean, and classes that shifted week to week. You knew him, had been unable to stop yourself from sneaking long stares at him in class. With his bright red mop of hair and his oversized glasses, buried nose-deep in books pretty much all the times you had seen him. He was your childhood crush. He was the first to invoke those warm feelings inside of you, and you hadn’t felt such a thing since. A couple of instances you had thought maybe, but nothing compared. But before you could even try to speak with him, he had well overtaken the class. He was teaching the teacher, and he left. What point was there for a genius to stay in a group that no longer taught? You regretted not speaking to him; regretted not confessing your feelings. But, then again, there was no way that such an innocent puppy love could have worked out. You dare hope that now would be different.

“Come in.” He gives a pull to your shoulder, tilting his head back towards the still-open door. A slow nod of your head is your response, still pulling on your sweater as you follow behind him. His house had the scent of a teenage boy, and yet there was the lingering trace of cleaning products. It was probably at its worst right now.

“Vanderwood hasn’t come around.” He laughs nervously, embarrassed that his abode was the way it was, apparently.

“I see.” You knew that. Vanderwood was the one who prompted you to come, told you what phrases to say to get past the security. “I suppose living the busy life of the mighty God Seven doesn’t leave much time to sweep.” Mirth pulls your lips into a smile, a breath of laughter falling from you, and in turn he looks back at you and you could swear you saw a flicker of adoration in that golden gaze.

“Defender of Justice doesn’t need to worry about germs and food breaks.” He shoots you back a thumbs up, and in that motion you see a glimmer of his normal goofy self, and your eyes soften, relax, perhaps show too much of what you were feeling in that moment. He sees, gets awkward, turns away.

“It’s.. it’s really good to see you, Seven.” You were honest. Rarely weren’t. Your hand reaches, grabbing hold of the back of his hoodie and his steps pause. Yours don’t, and you don’t stop moving until your forehead bumps in between his shoulder blades. “I didn’t believe it at first.”

“It’s an unbelievable circumstance, that’s for sure.” His answer was vague and impersonal and you just gripped onto his hoodie tighter.

“If I thought of a hundred ways that you and I were going to meet again, this wouldn’t even have been included.” You admitted it, murmuring it so quietly you wondered if he had even heard you.

“Me neither.” He started to say something else, but stopped himself before he could. It was a long pause before he spoke again. “I’m not fit to entertain guests.” He was uncomfortable with you here, you could feel it. But he didn’t want you to leave, either. Your hands slowly, tentatively, release their grip on his hoodie to try and slide around his middle, fingers trembling as they make contact with his shirt, feeling his stomach flinch before he steps out of your grip for your arms to fall by your sides.

“Ah, sorry.” You cast your gaze to the side again, wrapping your arms around yourself instead. His hand lifts to rub at the back of his head, his neck, rolling it before looking back at you.

“I just.. didn’t expect you to come here. It’s like I’m in a dream.” You didn’t know whether he meant that as a good thing or a bad thing.

“Not a nightmare, then?” Another attempt to lighten the heavy mood, but he looks at your with an authoritative stare.

“Nothing that involves you could ever be considered a nightmare.” He seems to catch himself. “Well, I mean, the temptation may be, but not you as a person.” Another awkward chuckle, and even though it was forced, you loves to see him smile. “I’m not the same person I am in the chatroom, though. But.. you could probably already tell that.”

“I knew before I came here.” Your head tilts a little to the side, arms wrapping around a little tighter. “Before, you were working so hard for a reason. So terribly smart that it was shocking. There was something driving you. I don’t know what, but I knew the you in the chatroom wasn’t the same version that I knew then.” A pause, a shake of your head. “Not that I knew you terribly well, though..” You were feeling anxious again. “I only knew what I saw of you.”

“What you saw of me?”

Perhaps you had given a little too much away. Your cheeks flush, and your hand raises once more to press to your mouth, to shut yourself up. Oh, God, did you have no restraint at all? Did he mess with your head so badly that you couldn’t even focus enough to stop yourself from talking?

“MC..” He calls for you, slowly stepping back towards you, brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Your breath speeds up, you swallow thickly, your tongue not wanting to obey. “Well, I mean, you fascinated me. Even so young, I know, it must be strange. I just.. I just liked to watch you sometimes.” You force out a giggle, that stupid giggle, but you avoid eye contact. If you looked at him, you were scared of what you would see.

“You.. watched me.” He seems dumbfounded, and both your hands raise up to busy your embarrassed face in oversized sleeves. Oh, you wanted to sink into the ground now. Now you’ve done it. “You didn’t notice?” His question had you wonder.

“Notice what?”

You didn’t realize for a long moment that his hands were touching you until they were gently pulling your fingers from hiding you away. Teeth embed in your own lower lip as you weren’t sure what to do, so you simply allowed him.

“Notice the way that I watched you, as well.” Your breath stopped, your head gently tilting up at the prompting of his fingers beneath your chin.

“What?” You were breathless, the word sounding it.

He gives a slightly aggravated chuckle, and you watch as his tongue rolls over his lips. Instead of responding to you verbally, he leans in and presses to your lips in a chaste kiss, over before it began. He backs away once more, straightening and dropping from your touch. “I wanted to do that since I saw you, you know.” He offers you an awkward grin and you’re stunned. “You used to.. almost glow in that classroom. Your clothes were clean, your hair was shiny, everyone loved you. You were so perfect that I was captivated. Back then, I didn’t know why, I thought it was just because you were everything that I wasn’t. That you had everything I wanted.”

You grit your jaw for a moment, eyes not shifting, remaining on him now. Your hand reaches, grabs the front of his shirt and forces your lips to meet once more. Your head tilts to the side, the kiss lasting far longer than the first. It took long moments before he releases a breath through his nose and returns the gesture, and though it doesn’t turn into anything deeper you remain in that affectionate embrace for some time.

When you at last break apart, both of your cheeks had flushed to varying degrees, and your blue hues gaze up at him. “I never could forget you, Seven. The you that was intently buried in those books, the one who didn’t pause to smart mouth the teacher, the you that looked so lonely.” Your hand raises to drag your fingertips down his cheek, thumb brushing the rim of his glasses. “I loved you then.” Your confession was breathy, and you had to fight yourself not to look away from him. “I love you now.” Your throat was tight, waiting.

Almost immediately, a frown creases his brow and he pulls back. “No.” It stung to hear him say that. “No, you don’t love me. You love the Seven in the chatroom, not the real me.”  
Your head shakes, voice breaking. “You don’t understand, Seven. I loved you long before any chatroom.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I want to know everything about you.”

“You won’t like what you see of me.”

“I want to see everything.”

“I’ll… be the end of you.” 

“Then let the end come.”

His mouth opens, and closes, and in the way he kept trying to push you away, you found this determination to stand your ground. You didn’t want to lose him. Not now that you had tasted the salty sweetness of his kiss, tasting of Honey Buddha chips.

“You’re quite literally a Minister’s daughter. The things I would do.. I can’t do that.”

You give him a frown, a cocking of your head to the side. “What, did you secretly grow up in the 1920s?” He gives a short laugh at that, and you reach for his cheek again. “Who my parents are shouldn’t matter at how you see me.”

“I would never be able to look your parents in the face again.”

He gave too much away with that statement. It meant he was considering, which meant you were able to tempt him.

“I want you to do whatever you like to me.” Because at this point, you really doubted his thoughts were on leaving.

He was struggling with himself, torn between telling you to leave and pulling you close. He wanted you to run, but wouldn’t be able to take watching you leave him.  
Again, you’re the one to reach for him, sliding your hands up his arms. That was all he needed for those arms to slide around your waist and pull your bodies together. Your mouth could never get you out of trouble, and for once you were thankful for the trouble that it had gotten you into. His lips were soft, slightly chapped from all the chips he ate, but there was no other way you imagined it. Your breath holds, your body on edge as you wait, and give a breathy sigh as you feel a tentative swipe of his tongue over your lower lip. Lips immediately part, your fingers clenching in the collar of his hoodie, leaning backwards slightly and pulling him to tower over you some. He seemed to like the vantage point, one arm abandoning your waist in favour of wrapping a hand rather securely on the back of your neck, holding you as he hovered like a predator upon your lips. The slickness of his tongue rubbing against the roof of your mouth pulls a heavy whine from you, a slight tremble rolling through your body at the sparks the contact sets off. Eyes slide closed, losing yourself easily in the kiss that portrayed his need, his love, and the sharp edges of his teeth that show his cruel desires.

He finally pulls away, your cheeks flushed and lips swollen, connected by a trail of saliva that he quickly licks away. “Seven..” Your breathy voice calls his attention. “Please..” You didn’t know what you were begging for, why you whimpered afterwards, but he gave a slight growl and his eyes darkened further through dilated pupils. His large hands lower, cupping handfuls of your plump as and leaning back to lift you up. You make a sound of surprise, but quickly wrap your arms and legs around him, head falling into the soft skin of his neck to have your teeth and tongue lavish the area with equal affection. Marks began to bloom on his skin and he snarls properly now, walking towards his messy bedroom without any form of patience. Your thighs press tightly to his hips, pressing the apex of your thighs tightly to the slowly growing bulge in the front of his jeans.  
Kicking the door open enough to slide through, the red-haired genius pushes you hard enough that your limbs disengage and you fall back onto the mess of sheets and pillows that he called his bed. It smelled of him, and you found yourself breathing deeply, head tipping back slightly with eyes fluttering. Fingers fist in his sheets as you look back at him watching you.

“Stay.” The command was all it took, and you felt no real need to respond as he moves towards his cupboard. Your eyes slide up to the ceiling and you see his countless glow in the dark stars, moons, and planets stuck there. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled your lips up, biting back an affectionate chuckle. You heard him rattling around in the various compartments hidden in there, but your patience paid off as he soon returns. Your eyes widen slightly as you see what he was holding.

“I warned you.” You could see his hand shaking, holding the leather collar with a grip that had his knuckles white. You relax again, pushing your upper half back up with a hand reaching for that trembling hand. Those well-manicured fingers of yours slide around his wrist and up the back of his hand comfortably, pulling him forward while leaning your head back, exposing the expanse of your nape. You look straight at him, not breaking gaze anymore. All he needed was that unspoken agreement, and he moves.

His jean-clad leg slides between your own, pushing your comforting hand away in favour of reaching to slip that leather around your throat, buckling it up at the back, letting the metal loop sit against the very back of your nape. You could smell the scent of him mixing with the pleasing smell of the leather itself. You wondered if he had used it before, but you doubted it, unless it was on himself. You couldn’t sense even a molecule of anyone else, and that pleased you. When all was done, he stared down at your owned state with hungry eyes, fingertips trailing on the accessory.

“It suits you.” His voice, though quite, sounded far more affectionate than you had expected.

“You suit me.” You whisper back.

“I’m going to make you into something wonderful.”

You found yourself far too eager at that. You knew he thought the world of you already, but to become something perfect for him was such a marvellous thought. Had these been your thoughts from when you had first met in those church classes?

You had been so awkward when you came in, and he had been just as much. But now, sharing this moment together, you knew he was committing to something. He wouldn’t be able to push you away again.

“Take off your shirt.”

Your woollen cardigan had been getting rather steamy, the fabric long enough to be considered a dress. You didn’t pause, even though you knew there was little else to hide you from him. You lift your body enough to pull your cardigan out from under your plush ass, arms crossing to pull it up and over your head.

You wondered what he would think when he saw you.

You weren’t completely skinny, though you weren’t plump, either. Your body was soft, and there was a small curve to your stomach, breasts and ass plump. Down your upper arms and over your collarbone there was a cohesive piece of art tattooed to your slightly freckled skin. Your coffee-toned hair falls in threads over your shoulders, the ends falling to meet your simple black bra. You had worn stockings underneath your cardigan, the high waist of it settled nicely on the inward curve just below your ribcage. Black panties were visible beneath the partially sheer fabric, your simple black flats still on your feet. The collar sat so well on your neck, and you were almost frightened to look at him. But, you gathered the courage.

His eyes hadn’t shifted, were stuck on you, taking in every inch that you had exposed to him. You knew your body wasn’t perfect, there were many things you would change if you could.

“Did you come here, dressed like this, because you expected this to happen?” His voice was husky, and you whimpered a little. He groans, a hand going to adjust himself between his now tight, restraining jeans. “You.. slut.”

You felt a shudder visibly wrack through your body at that accusation, lips parting as you exhale sharply. “No..” You put up the weak denial, but the world held no real force, and judging by the smirk that pulls at his features, he knew it.

“You whore. Don’t you feel embarrassed at all, wearing this under that?” He reaches forward, tracing the cup of your bra. Just the feeling of his fingertips on the flesh of your breast has your back arch to press towards him. “Put your arms behind your back.”

Arms immediately slide to cross behind you, hands grasping the inside of opposite elbows, breath picking up as his finger dips between your sizeable breasts, pulling lightly on the fabric.

“Just because your body is gorgeous doesn’t mean you have the right to parade it around in such a sexy set.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Not in front of anyone but me.” A nod of your head.

“Nobody but you.” A pause, a sense of wickedness striking you as your head tilts slightly to the side. “God Seven.”

You watch his jaw grit, eyes widening slightly and then his hand his on your throat.

“That’s right, slut. A God is all you need.”

Your breath felt restricted, your hands tightening their grip as the initial strike of fear rolls through your body out of reflex. The slight choking sound that left your throat must have hit him hard, because he visibly flinched, his hips twitching towards you. His spare hand falls down the clasp of his jeans, and the excitement you felt just watching was evident. You watch the teeth of the zipper part so slowly that you heard each one pull apart. Your body shuffles forward in your eagerness, but stops at the further tightening grip and constricted airway.

Baby blues watch as he pops the button, exposing his boxers that had cat faces on them. Had the situation been much different, you may have teased him. But you were far, far too enthusiastic to see what lay beneath. His lucky hand delves beneath his boxers to pull his hardened length free, and you can’t stop the moan that rolls from you.

“Fuck, you like what you see, baby girl?” His grin was cocky, but his jaw was locked tight and so you simply nod up at him with honest expression.

“Yes, God Seven.” You swallow, and he growls as he felt it beneath his palm. “Can I touch it?”

“You can touch it when I let you.”

“Please.”

He pants heavily twice.

“Begging won’t help.”

You whimper, your tongue visibly rolling behind your parted lips.

“Fucking hell..” He whispers to himself angrily, before letting himself move closer to you, so close that the tip of your nose almost nuzzled the underside of his cock. “Suck on my balls, slut.” And you were more than happy to comply. Your head pulls forward, his hand allowing you to, loosening some as your lips kiss on his sensitive sack, looking up at him as his thick length rests against your cheek. You felt his cock throb at the sight.

Your tongue sneaks out to swipe and layer his skin in your slick saliva, pulling one testicle into your mouth and suckling it, before doing the same with the other. You moan gently, the vibrations having his hips rock forward again. “Ahhh… such a good girl, that’s it.” He encourages you, head rolling for a moment before looking back down at you. His skin tasted slightly salty, but he was clean. With a tilt of your head, his length shifts across your face to rest on your other cheek, and you twirl your tongue around his sack before releasing it with a suctioned popping sound. He pulls you back, his cheeks flushed as you take deep breaths, lips wet with spit and your tongue slowly runs over the reddened petals.

“Open up.”

‘Finally’, you think, but all your mouth does is drop open, tongue sticking out slightly. He glares down at you, his hand reaching to angle his cock to press the tip into your mouth before going to the back of your head. The tip of your tongue digs into his slit and he hisses, your slick muscle lathering the head in tender slides. Without much warning, however, his hips drill forward, and his hand on your head and throat pull you forward so his cock drives down your throat. Your gag reflex fights it, choking and he groans in pleasure at the constriction. Palm on your throat rubs, feeling where his cock was settled beneath your skin.

You gag once more before he pulls back almost all the way, letting you pull in another breath even as saliva connects your mouth to his cock, before his insistently pushes back in. He doesn’t go as deep, but he begins a pace with you, gags still being pulled from you, but nothing unmanageable. You look up at him, hollowing your cheeks as you stick your tongue out. The sounds you could hear over the sound of your pounding heartbeat were lewd, but you could tell he was enjoying every moment of it. Hands tighten so hard behind you that your nails dig into your own skin. Your saliva became slick, stringy the more he went, feeling it rolling down your chin and drip down onto your chest. His hand on the back of your head scrunches in your brunette tresses, and you listen with great satisfaction to the sounds he released.

“You fucking biiiitch…” He growls at you, letting his eyes slide closed, but you didn’t look away. “Your throat feels so good.. like it’s milking my damn cock. Are you that hungry for my cum, sweetheart?” The way he would change from cruel names to ones full of affection was addicting. He forces himself back down your throat and watches you once more, waiting for an answer. So, you nod.

“What was that, whore?”

You tried to speak around him, even though it made no sense and made you choke again. “Yes, God Seven.”

“Hm? Again.”

“Yes, God Seven.” Your stomach did a flip at the particularly nasty gag.

“Well, too bad.” He pulls out from you completely, and you drag in a lungful of air, gasping it in like you had been starved of it. “Bad sluts don’t get treats.”

“I’m good, I’m good!” You almost sob it, but you hadn’t realized you had already been crying from his treatment to your throat.

“Nonsense.” He seems transfixed, rubbing his slick, saliva coated length against your face again. “Hands and knees on the bed, baby girl.”

The aching need in your core had your give a whine of desperation, but you obey; turning and then crawling up the sheets so he could get a good look at your ass in stockings the whole way. You felt a colder sensation between your legs, and you quickly realized that you had soaked straight through the nylon, a flush on your cheeks as you realized he would probably be able to tell. His next words confirmed it.

“Fuck sake, you’re soaking wet.” He gave an almost astonished chuckle, crawling up on the bed to pinch the thin fabric, pull it, and then release it so that the wetness of it was truly felt. You whimper, shaking your hips a little.

“My God makes me like this.” You look back at him over your shoulder, peering through your hair.

“That’s exactly right, my darling little toy.” His large hand palms your plump flesh, watching the fabric shift before reeling back to give a strike there. You yelp, rocking forward at the initial pain. “Tell me who owns you, baby girl.”

“God Seven owns me.”

“What would you do for your God?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Whatever my God asks of me.”

“What do you want from your God now, pet?”

“Please.. please, God Seven. Fuck me.”

His breath was a hiss, and he slaps your ass once more and you cry out, but pressed back towards him.

“What did I do to deserve such a good little slut?” He murmurs it more to himself now, like he would hold his own answer. Your lips part to answer, but instead a trembling moan drips out of you as he drags two fingers up your clothed arousal through the layers of fabric that still sheltered it. Your thighs quiver as he starts to simply run his fingers up and down your dripping sex.

“You do look like a bitch in heat, you know that? Ready to be bred.” His voice was a husky purr and it ran heat straight to your core.

“Please… please..”

“Beg again and I’ll have to silence you.” Teeth quickly bite on your lower lip.

His hands grip a little harder on the fabric of your stockings, and with a loud tear, he rips them open. You wanted to protest at that, these were good stockings! But, you force yourself to keep quiet. Pointer finger hooks on your black panties, and he hums. “So hot. Do you like me treating you like this?”

“I love it. I love it so much, God Seven.”

“Born for me.” He pulls the panties aside, and he seems to lose the delicacy of his movements. “I’m going to fuck you now, little girl.”

You almost wanted to cry in happiness, your body so tightly coiled like a spring ready to release. Your hips push back, feeling the slippery tip of his cock copying his fingers as they rub up and down your now bare pussy. Hands fist in in the sheets below you again, Seven’s spare hand reaching to grab a hold of your thick tresses, while ring and points finger hook into the loop on the back of your collar.

Without another word, he angles himself, and then shoves in as far as he can into your tight cunt. You let out a sharp scream at the initial pain of penetration, though it was cut short as he pulls the collar tight and it cuts off your airway. He slows down as your tightness stops him from slamming in balls-deep, but presses forward until he’s buried to the hilt.

“Ooooh, baby girl. You feel so fucking good, squeezing around me like that.” His now-free hand moves over your ass to grab hard enough on your hip that you knew it would bruise. Your lips were open to be able to drag in any air you could manage, thighs trembling without restraint as he starts a hard rhythm. The sound of your sex getting thoroughly fucked by him was accentuated by wet skin slapping to wet skin, your ass and the backs of your thighs becoming red through the stockings from the force of it. He was fucking you through a torn hole, and it was so delicious.

Seven was more of a sadist than anyone could really know. His very personality was teasing, and numerous times he had mentioned his desire to do things to people and watch their reactions. He was devouring yours now. Every moan, every whimper, twitch, breath, none of it was missed as he explored you. Hand on hip moves up to pull down your bra and roughly grope a handful of your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers and pinching rather hard. The intensity of his movements have your back curve into a delicate arch, calls of his name and title coming from you unabashed when you could gather air to do so.

The lack of oxygen was making you lightheaded, your body being thrown forward and pulled back with each thrust, and you knew it wouldn’t take you long to unwind, particularly with his cock grinding against your g-spot like it was, having you lose whatever sense you had managed to maintain to this point. Those baby blues of yours were rolling back in your head, tongue uselessly lolling out of your mouth in desperation to breathe. Just when you felt on the urge of passing out, he loosens his hold on your collar. You drag in a hard breath, and the head rush was enough to tip you over, letting out a hard cry as your orgasm rolls through you. Your walls contract around him sporadically, and he gives out an approving groan before pulling your collar taut once more. Your entire body was sensitive and weak, would have collapsed if he wasn’t holding you up to use you to get off. You didn’t realize how long he had thrusted before he reached his peak, burying deep inside you to release his load. You felt the warmth, the wet sensation as it leaks out from around his cock, every pulse as his balls emptied into your welcoming heat.

He rode out his orgasm and you lost consciousness for just a moment before he release all holds he had on you and you fell flat onto your stomach on the bed, a whimpering, shaking mess. He slide from you with a slick sound, remaining looking down at you as you recover so slowly, looking an utter mess. He was panting himself, cheeks flushed and chest rising and falling rapidly.

“MC..” He murmurs your name, an unsure tone to his voice and you simply turned around, arms reaching for him. He dives down into you, burying his face in your hair and looping his arms around your recovering form. “Oh, MC..”

“I love you, Seven.”

He was shocked, pulling up to look at you like he was afraid he really had fucked you crazy. You returned his expression with a smile, running your fingers down his features. “Don’t let me go, okay?”

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t imagine it at this point.”

Your body was bruising and you knew it, the skin around the collar already turning a slightly purple tinted red. “I can’t live without you now. Without this.”

It’s like that snapped him from his thoughts. “Oh, shit.” He pulls from your grip, looking you up and down, trying to ignore the throb of his cock at the sight of you. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you too much, did I? I sometimes.. lose myself.”

A shake of your head and you tried to reach for him again. Your throat hurt, your voice was hoarse. “I enjoyed every moment.” He didn’t seem to expect that response, and so settles back down into you. Your fingers comb through his crimson curls, turning your head to press a kiss to the top of his head. “So…”

He gives a curious hum, happy to press soft kisses on your skin.

“How long do you need to go again?”

He just smirks.


End file.
